


The Isle of Avalon

by Smint100



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-03
Updated: 2013-03-03
Packaged: 2017-12-04 04:59:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smint100/pseuds/Smint100
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short story about how Arthur finds his true love with a little help from a wish on the Bright Moon . . . and Merlin</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Isle of Avalon

**The Isle of Avalon**

 

Arthur left his bed and leaned against the coolness of the castle wall. He looked out over Camelot, his shirt clinging to him with perspiration despite the late hour. It was a full moon, but still a month before midsummer and Arthur was restless, not just because of the heat.

Staring at the moon, he sighed. ‘I just wish I had someone in my life who understands my needs. Someone to share this with. Someone who isn’t Merlin.’

He returned to his bed and eventually fell asleep to be disturbed by a dream so vivid he could barely believe it wasn’t real. He was standing on the shore of a lake. It was dawn, misty, but the sun was beginning to warm the air. A boat was heading towards him with no obvious means of propulsion, a single figure on board. It glided to a halt in front of him and he could see it was a woman.

She beckoned him onto the boat, and he walked forward, watching her curiously. She was swathed from head to toe in a gauzy material that hinted at the body it covered, but also concealed it. She motioned him to be seated and then, as the boat glided away from the shore, unveiled her face.

He didn’t recognise her, but the oval face was framed with curling dark hair, the eyes a melting deep brown. He could see her silhouette through the filmy material, the curve of her breasts, the gentle roundness of her hips. He was ensnared, his body suddenly responding to her as they entered the mists.

And then he woke, Merlin swishing back the drapes of the bed to find Arthur rapidly dragging the covers over himself despite the warmth of the morning.

‘Are you all right?’ Merlin asked.

‘Yes. Yes, why do you ask?’ Arthur retorted.

‘It’s just that you look a bit . . . well, odd, to be quite honest.’

Odd was exactly how Arthur was feeling, but he wasn’t going to confess as much to Merlin, his manservant hidden under the covers was causing him enough confusion. He sent Merlin away and lay back on the bed, the woman’s face clearly etched on his mind as he attended to his own needs.

He had the dream again that night. This time the boat was further away and he waited with ill disguised anticipation for it to approach. Once again, the woman was swathed in filmy cloth, but this time he was certain he could see more of her body, faint shadows which had previously been obscured, nothing tangible, but enough that his body responded as urgently as it had before. He had no idea who this woman was, or why she was having this effect on him, but he felt a connection with her that he hadn’t experienced since Guinevere.

That thought brought him abruptly out of the dream and he lay crossly in bed, waiting for dawn, unable to sleep again. Every night he had the same dream, but sometimes the boat began its journey further from the shore and some nights he woke before it even reached him, to his frustration. On the times when he did enter the boat, it was to find her gossamer thin robe becoming even more transparent, the curves of her body more clear, shadows and details forming where there had been none. Every night his body responded to her in the same way, but he was unable to touch her. She never spoke but he could imagine her voice, soft and low. He almost felt that he could smell her scent, layered, floral but musky, feminine but sensual. He lost concentration during the day, blaming it on sleeping badly due to the continued heat, but the reality was that he was becoming obsessed with this woman in his dreams.

* * *

Towards the next full moon, the castle was in preparation for the midsummer feast. King Barlis would be bringing his daughters, the eldest of whom had been proposed as a match for Arthur, uniting the two kingdoms as Barlis had no sons. Arthur, who had not given it much thought that month, was particularly tetchy with Merlin.

‘But WHY can’t you decide what to wear?’ Merlin was asking, his face concerned for once. Arthur was never normally so indecisive about his clothes.

‘Oh just get me anything.’

‘A lovely velvet frock, perhaps?’

‘Anything.’

Arthur clearly wasn’t listening, so Merlin chose a tunic at random and some freshly washed breeches. It was only when Arthur was dressed and took a look at himself in the glass that he realised he was wearing hunting britches.

‘Merlin!’ He threw an apple at his servant as his face appeared at the door. Merlin ducked and it missed. ‘Why have you given me these to wear? It’s a feast not a farmers guild!’

Muttering under his breath about _someone_ only _just_ noticing what they were wearing, Merlin found a more suitable pair of breeches and Arthur changed.

‘Well, you want to look your best for Lady Merril,’ Merlin commented, fastening Arthur’s cloak around his shoulders.

‘Who?’

‘Lady Merril. King Barlis’s eldest daughter? Erm, the one you’re supposed to be marrying? The one Uther promised you to?’

Arthur’s heart momentarily clenched. This wasn’t how he’d planned gaining a queen to rule alongside him in Camelot. His father would have approved, a marriage for alliance, but for Arthur that wasn’t enough. Guinevere had ruined him in so many ways. But it was time to forget her, to move on without her. For the future of Camelot.

‘Anyway, they’ve just arrived,’ Merlin continued. ‘You’d better go and meet them.’

‘King Arthur.’ Barlis greeted Arthur warmly and the two men hugged. Peace had been good for both their kingdoms. ‘May I introduce my daughter Merril,’ and out of the shadows stepped a willowy blonde figure. Blushing she curtseyed deeply in front of Arthur. He took her hand to raise her, meeting her eyes for the first time. She was not unattractive and he smiled warmly at her.

‘You are very welcome, my lady.’

‘And . . .’ King Barlis looked around him. ‘Avalon? Avalon!’ From near the fireplace where she had been playing with latest litter of puppies, a figure approached. ‘Arthur, my other daughter, Avalon,’ he continued with a sigh.

As she curtseyed, he could see that she was wearing riding boots rather than velvet slippers like her sister, and that her dress, although richly embroidered, was mud splattered, her dark hair tumbling unruly over her shoulders. But it was as she looked up to him, holding out her hand for him to raise her, that he realised he had seen her before. As she placed her hand on his, such was the spark between them that he almost threw it aside. She looked at him curiously, her smile faltering, but it was her. The lady from his dream.

He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and acknowledged her curtsey with a bow. ‘My lady Avalon-’ Her name caught in his throat.

‘I know, awful isn’t it? You can call me Avi. Everyone else does. Except father, of course.’

She glanced up at Barlis who was barely concealing his annoyance. ‘Avalon!’ he reprimanded. ‘What have I told you about . . .’

‘Talking too much?’ she prompted. ‘Or over-familiarity? Guilty on both counts,’ and she laughed, seemingly oblivious to the looks she was receiving from both her father and her sister, and Arthur’s complete confusion. ‘Anyway, I am honoured to meet you, my lord,’ and she bobbed another curtsey and stepped back.

Barlis ushered his daughters out of the room with an apologetic backward glance at Arthur.

‘Arthur?’ Merlin prompted.

‘Ugh?’

‘Arthur!’

‘What?’

‘What _is_ the matter with you? You look like a startled sheep.’

‘A what?’

‘You heard.’

‘Merlin . . .we’re going to see Gaius.’

* * *

‘Well, it could be dark magic, my lord, but it seems unlikely. After all, you say that she knows nothing about it?’

‘She didn’t appear to. I . . .’ He stood up and started pacing Gaius’s laboratory. ‘How could I know her? I’ve never seen her before but she’s been in my dreams every night for a month.’

‘Exactly a month?’

‘Oh, err . . . well, I think it was a full moon when I had the first dream.’

Gaius frowned. ‘Well, unless you made a wish on the Bright Moon . . .’ Arthur suppressed a cough and Gaius looked at him sharply. ‘Perhaps you’d like to share that wish.’

Arthur squirmed uncomfortably while Merlin began to grin.

‘Shut up,’ Arthur snapped.

‘I didn’t say a word!’

‘Arthur?’ Gaius prompted.

‘Does _he_ really need to be here?’ Arthur asked, nodding at Merlin, who was obviously enjoying Arthur’s discomfort.

‘Yes, he does,’ Gaius replied. ‘He is in a much better position to observe you than I am, and it’s a full moon tonight when the magic is at its strongest. He stays. So?’

‘I . . .oh lord. I wished for someone to share my life with. Someone who understood me.  Specifically, someone who _isn’t_ Merlin.’

‘Oh harsh,’ Merlin laughed.

‘And then the dreams came, Arthur?’ Gaius asked.

Arthur nodded. ‘And they’ve been getting clearer and clearer. Last night’s . . .’ He paused. ‘It was . . . extremely . . . vivid.’

‘And explains why your sheets have needed more frequent washing. Sire, I do believe you’re blushing.’

‘Merlin, hush!’ And Arthur picked up a bowl and threatened to hurl it in Merlin’s direction.

‘Well, my lord, it appears you may have wished yourself into this situation,’ Gaius added, ignoring Merlin.

‘But it’s impossible. Avalon . . . I’m certain Avalon is my destiny, but Barlis wants me to marry Merril. I can’t ignore her for Avalon, he’ll take that as an insult.’

‘I’ve known Barlis a very long time, Arthur. It wouldn’t be just an insult if you rejected Merril. It would be a declaration of war.’

* * *

That evening at the feast, Merril was sitting next to Arthur, doing her best to entertain him. He smiled politely as she talked about the journey, how she had the decency to take a litter while Avalon had insisted on riding herself. She was sat further round the table talking to Gwaine and Arthur was unable to suppress an acute feeling of jealousy as they laughed together. First Lancelot and Guinevere. Now Gwaine and Avalon? ‘Agh!’

‘My lord?’ Merril asked.

Arthur hadn’t realised he’d made a noise, but stamped his foot and muttered, ‘Cramp.’ He moved his chair so he could no longer see Avalon and turned his attention dutifully to Merril. She was not unpleasant company, and he found himself warming to her, but his heart was not in it.

* * *

This time the boat was waiting for him in his dream, the lady, Avalon, dressed, disappointingly, in a long hooded cloak. She still didn’t speak, just stood and watched Arthur as he climbed into the boat and took his seat. She remained standing as the boat headed towards the misty isle and Arthur realised it was evening rather than morning. For the first time, the boat nudged against the island’s beach and Avalon stepped carefully out of the boat and waited for Arthur. He followed her and she turned and walked up to a semi-ruined building where she was met by four women. Arthur was quite pleased to see that they were dressed in the diaphanous drapes previously worn by Avalon, and as he walked past them into a partly furnished room, they plucked at his clothes, removing them without him realising until he stood, naked, before a deep bath.

Avalon waited as the four women encouraged him into the bath and they soaped and stroked him with gentle fingers until two of them lifted a blanket and he stepped out into it. They dried him and then drifted back as Avalon turned, beckoning him towards another room. To his immense relief there was an enormous bed in the centre of the next room. Avalon stood at its side and as he approached she let the cloak fall from her shoulders.

Arthur’s breath caught as he took in the delicious lines and curves of her body, but it was when their eyes connected that he felt the strongest shudder of lust.

‘Arthur . . .’ she whispered, the first time she had spoken. ‘Arthur . . . you wished for me. Come . . . be with me.’

‘Can I trust you?’

‘You wished for me. I am what you wished for.’

‘Where am I?’

‘This is the Isle of Avalon. Your destiny.’

She reached out her hand and he took it, touching her for the first time, and energy flowed through him making him feel sublimely alive. Gently he pulled her towards him and then she was in his arms and he was kissing her, stroking gentle fingers over her skin as their lips met and moulded against one another. She tasted wonderful and he slid his fingers over her shoulder and into the hair at the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. He manoeuvred her onto the bed and she willingly followed his lead. He lay next to her and kissed down over her shoulder, along the collar bone and down onto her breasts.

She released a sigh as he caught against her nipple and he took it between his lips and began to gently suck. She moved languidly as he kissed and caressed her, exploring her contours, responding to his touch. He was indulging himself in this dreamworld, taking advantage of the complete freedom, allowing his fingers to stroke and touch and softly squeeze, and Avalon responded, matching his touches with her own, stroking down his torso, over his hips and thighs.

She wrapped her fingers around his manhood, and then slid her lips over its tip. Arthur stretched out luxuriously onto his back as she knelt above him and began to gently suck at him, her lips widening over the tightening skin as he lengthened within her. She flickered butterfly light fingertips over his body as she sucked him, holding him more firmly between her lips, winding her tongue over the tip as he raised his hips up towards her until he could hold himself no longer and released himself into her, groaning with relief as he climaxed.

Not wanting to lose a moment of this experience, he turned her onto her back, stroked  fingers over her stomach, gently over her hip bones, and then between her legs. She parted for him, allowing him access to her femininity. She was breathing deeply and he matched the movement of his fingers to her tempo, her body undulating, and he kissed down her body, replacing his fingers with his tongue. She gasped as he entered her warm wetness, tasting and sucking, locating her bud so that she moaned and he circled it with his tongue and then started to suck, to tease it. Avalon was whimpering now, pushing herself against him, grasping the sheets, twisting them in her fists as he grasped her hips with his hands to focus more closely until she could bear it no more and a shudder of ecstasy wracked her body.

It was then that he entered her, at first slowly, then increasing the pace, thrusting deeply into her as he took her emotions onto new levels. She responded to him so wonderfully, he had never met anyone who had given herself so fully, so completely to him, and as he looked into her dark eyes, they seemed to flash with a golden aura as he released himself within her.

* * *

‘You must leave now, my lord,’ she softly as they walked towards the boat.

‘I will return tomorrow?’

Avalon shook her head. ‘You will see the boat, but you cannot land on the island until the next full moon.’

‘The next . . .?’ He remembered his frustration over the last month. ‘But I cannot wait that long!’

‘You must leave now, my lord,’ she repeated.

‘And what if I refuse? Do I have a choice?’

‘You always have a choice.’

‘Then I choose to stay here. With you,’ and he took her by the hand and led her back into the ruins of the castle.

* * *

‘Gaius, I still can’t wake him,’ Merlin said anxiously. Arthur was thrashing about in bed, occasionally moaning. ‘I heard him call out but when I went to him, he was like this _._ What do I do?’

‘It is as I feared. He is lost in his dream.’

‘He’s what?’

‘The moon was full last night and at its most powerful. His wish is coming true in his dream. He has chosen to stay there.’

‘His wish? Well, that would explain the . . .’ and he twitched the sheet back over Arthur’s tumescence. ‘But how do we get him back? He can’t go on like this!’

‘No, Merlin. No, he can’t. Fetch the Lady Avalon.’

Avalon arrived in her nightgown, hair in disarray. She saw Arthur and took a step back from him. ‘Is he ill?’

‘Not exactly, my lady,’ Gaius replied. ‘He keeps calling your name.’

‘Mine? But why mine? Why not Merril?’

‘I don’t know, my lady, but it’s definitely your name. Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Have you ever dreamt about Arthur?’

’No! Indeed, for the last month I have not dreamt at all, which is unusual. I have slept heavily but woken exhausted.’

‘The last month? Since when exactly?’

‘Since the last full moon, sir.’

‘Lady Avalon, did you . . . did you make a wish that night?’

Avalon flushed furiously and bowed her head. ‘It was an indulgence, sir.’

Gaius patted her on the shoulder. ‘I understand. But . . . your wish?’

‘I . . . I wished to have someone in my life who understood me and who would love me.’ Avalon was trembling, partly with embarrassment, partly with fear. ‘What have I done?’

‘I think you have invoked some ancient magic, more elementary even than the Old Magic. You both made a wish together on the Bright Moon. I think . . . I think Arthur is living his wish in his dream. Yet you have felt nothing?’ She shook her head. ‘You have not yet known a man?’ he asked gently.

She shook her head, shame flushing her cheeks. ‘No sir.’

‘Then I think the ancient magic has protected you.’

‘But . . . King Arthur . . .?’

Gaius shook his head wearily. ‘I cannot undo what he has done. He has chosen to remain in his dream.’

‘Can I do nothing?’ Merlin asked.

‘I’m afraid not. This is beyond even . . .’ he trailed off as Merlin looked back at Arthur.

He had momentarily lapsed into stillness although his body was still tense. Avalon approached and sat next to him on the bed. She stroked a hand across his forehead. He seemed to respond, turning towards her, his muscles seeming to relax. She stroked down over his face, her fingers drawing along his strong cheekbones, his fine straight nose, tracing the outline of his mouth. He responded by kissing her fingers and taking the tips between his lips, gently sucking them. This surprised her and she withdrew them quickly. At once Arthur reacted, his forehead wrinkling in consternation and he turned his head from side to side as though searching for her. Tentatively she returned her hand to his forehead, stroking him into calmness once more.

‘Gaius?’ she asked, looking for some kind of explanation.

‘My lady, you, or your spirit, are with him in his dream.’

‘I am? I have heard of shades, but I thought they were spirits of the dead?’

‘They are, but ancient magic allowed for more freedom of movement of living spirits, especially . . .’

‘Especially?’

‘Especially their, ahem, sexual elements or fey spirits. I think that is what has happened here. You both wished for the same thing on the same moon, but while your earthly life is protected as your fey spirit fulfils your wish, Arthur has no such protection.’

‘But how do we get him back?’

‘I can think of only one thing, but it is too much to ask.’

‘What, Gaius? Whatever it is, I will do it.’

‘I cannot ask that of you.’

‘Ask me what?’

 ‘Your fey spirit is bonded with Arthur’s in his dream. To release him, you must bond your actual body with his, recapture your spirit.’

‘You mean . . .?’ She had stopped stroking Arthur’s face and he was becoming restless again. ‘But that would mean . . . I would shame my father and my name, and . . .’

‘I know, my lady. That is why I cannot ask it of you. And your fey has been released in complete freedom, to behave as it desires. It may be . . . difficult for you to . . . align your conscience with its actions. And it will have become stronger since its release as it will be drawing on Arthur’s spirit which was, well, let us say, more developed than yours.’

‘But if I don’t? Arthur?’

‘Arthur will die, my lady. He will not eat or drink while he is in this state.’

‘So I give myself to him . . . or he dies?’ She was looking between Gaius and Merlin, hoping for one of them to offer an alternative solution, but they simply bowed their heads in acquiescence. She looked back at Arthur, watching his features as some drama she could not see played out behind his eyes.

‘Avalon!’ he suddenly cried out. ‘Oh my Avalon!’

‘I will do this,’ she whispered. ‘I cannot let him die, whatever the cost.’

‘You are sure, my lady?’ Gaius asked.

She nodded. ‘Merlin . . . will you stay? In case . . .?’

Merlin swallowed but nodded. Poor Avalon. This was her first night at Camelot and she was being made to do . . . this! Arthur would owe her not only his life, but more even than that, if he survived. If. But he had to, and Merlin had to make sure that he did.

Gaius approached Avalon and tilted her face up towards him. ‘You are very brave,’ he said. ‘But be careful. When the fey returns to you, it will want control.’

‘Gaius, I’m scared.’

‘Of course you are. But Merlin will be here.’

‘How . . . how will I know when . . .?’

‘You’ll know.’ He stroked across her cheek to reassure her and then he left the room.

She looked up at Merlin, eyes filling with tears, but then turned towards the king. ‘Arthur, Arthur,’ she whispered, and began to kiss him, his hair, his forehead, down his nose, finally finding his mouth with hers. He responded immediately, pushing his face against hers.

‘Gently, gently,’ she whispered, and his kisses softened. He reached up and began to caress the back of her neck, gradually drawing her down onto the bed with him. She lay next to him, shaking with fear which he seemed to feel as he ran fingers softly over her, soothing her, calming her. His hands moved up to her breasts, tentatively at first, but, when she didn’t protest, he began to mould them, gently squeezing her, stroking her and cupping her while still continuing to kiss her.

He started to push back her nightdress from her shoulder and she pulled away from him and stood in order to shrug it to the floor. It pooled around her feet and Merlin could see the gentle curves of her body as she lay back down next to Arthur.

He took a seat in the corner of the room in the shadows, not wanting to distract her, but realising he was coming under the influence of her himself, his body responding to the shape of her naked form. He smiled stiffly at the thought that he was about to watch Avalon and Arthur make love in front of him. Surely this was beyond the bounds of his role?

Arthur was now totally focusing on Avalon. His body had calmed and as she lay next to him, she began to respond to his kisses, stroking his face, gliding over the stubble that had formed, running her fingers through his soft blonde hair. Very slowly Arthur stroked along her body, up over her hips, back to her breasts, reading her, so that when she tensed he slowed, but when she relaxed he continued his exploration of her.

Trusting him not to hurt her and gaining in her own confidence, she tentatively pushed him onto his back and began to explore his body with her fingers and tongue, scraping fingernails gently across his chest so that he released a sigh of pleasure. She lapped at his nipples like a kitten, beginning to take pleasure in his response to her touch. He stroked her body more firmly, eventually reaching up to focus her breasts as she moved alongside him, catching at her nipples and feeling them respond.

Slowly, oh so slowly, she caressed down his body until she reached his manhood. She smoothed her fingers over it, feeling it respond to her touch, rising to meet her exploring fingers as she caressed its silkiness. She wriggled down the bed slightly so that she could better observe it, and tentatively kissed its tip. Arthur released a repressed moan, and she licked along the length of the shaft causing Arthur to shiver with pleasure.

She was no longer afraid of him, only of what might happen when she encountered her fey spirit. She kissed up his body, over the smooth flat muscles of his stomach, across his chest and back to his mouth. He lifted his head to meet hers, and this time she pushed back, kissing him harder, allowing his tongue to cautiously enter her mouth, gently probing and then twining with her tongue, as emotions began to course through her body. The kissing undulated between soft, slow, sloppy, lingering caresses through to harder, more demanding exploration, the pace rising and falling, but gradually increasing as her body was flooded with the strongest of feelings. His hand stroked over her hips, then up the front of her thigh. She lifted a knee for him, allowing his fingers to stroke over her and then into her, drawing her wetness from her as he circled her bud and then slid back into her. She was gasping now through the kisses, her body so totally relaxed that she could barely move at all, surrendering herself to him totally.

She gradually pulled away from him and then lifted one knee over him so that she was astride his body, looking down at him, exploring his face with her eyes. She knew that it was time to bond with him, to join their bodies as one, but her nervousness returned.

‘Be gentle with me, my lord,’ she whispered.

‘Oh Avalon, my love, my life,’ he responded.

He guided her onto him, waiting with delicious anticipation as she carefully lowered herself onto him, feeling her wetness and her tightness as he entered her, taking away that precious barrier that she gave willingly to save him. She leaned on his stomach, his muscles easily supporting her until she was settled on him, and he slowly began to rock her, watching her face express its surprise at the movement inside her, absorbing him yet resisting him at the same time. She began to respond to his rhythm, moving with him, so very slowly at first, and then gradually faster, eyes wide with both fear and arousal. Emotions curled from her femininity, spiralling through her body, every nerve tingling, every muscle aching for him as he moved inside her, powerful and commanding. She arched backwards, taking him deeper, barely registering her own existence, and, as he groaned and released himself inside her, she reached her arms skywards, fingers splayed, and felt the sudden envelopment of her spirit, filling her, washing through her, swirling round her body as her spiritual fey returned.

And then Avalon felt she had lost control completely of her own body. She flung her hands forward onto Arthur’s chest and found herself sobbing and collapsing onto him. He held her tight against him, soothing her cries, but the fey spirit was not finished with her. Back in her own body, but now all-powerful, she needed further gratification.

Arthur was breathing heavily, approaching exhaustion. ‘Merlin? Merlin, are you there?’ Merlin approached the bed. ‘Merlin, I can’t . . . Merlin, save her . . .’

Avalon was looking desperately at Merlin. ‘You have to . . . I need more . . . She’s going to leave me . . .’

As he fixed her dark eyes with his own, he saw them flash an iridescent gold, and his own responded in recognition. This was truly the ancient magic working through the body of this young woman. But then the light began to increase, flashing and sparkling, gaining in strength, ready to leave Avalon’s body.

 ‘No!’ Merlin grabbed Avalon by the arms, hesitated for just one second and then started to kiss her. She responded immediately, kissing him back. He had to suppress this strengthened fey, bring her back into equilibrium. And there was only one way to do that.

Fully clothed and now kneeling between a naked king and his recent lover was not a position Merlin had found himself in before. Avalon, her eyes now glowing as gold as Merlin’s as the magic mingled and fought between them, began to undo his neckerchief and then tugged at his tunic. He helped her remove both that and his boots and breeches, her hands running over his smooth pale skin.

Merlin had never felt like this before, his lust rising, empowering his own magic, making it stronger.  He felt challenged by Avalon’s fey and rose to it, needing to subdue it, kissing her so that the fey was engaged.

It spoke to him mind to mind. _I am dominant in Avalon’s body._

_I will subdue you._

_You do not have the power._

_I do and I will use it._

_She is not protected now._

_I will protect her._

They were facing each other, eyes engaged as they kissed, barely touching each other. But Merlin started to take control, kissing her harder, holding her firmer. He could feel her breathing deepen as she responded to it, moving closer to him so that her breasts touched his chest. He began to caress her, moving slowly but powerfully, controlling her movements so that she shuddered, wanting him to increase the pace, but he deliberately kept it slow.

Her fingers twisted into his dark hair, caressing his neck, stroking firm fingers over his shoulders, massaging the muscles of his arms. She was rubbing her nipples against him, aroused and responding to him, and then began to pull him against her, leaning back onto the bed. Merlin couldn’t resist her, the fey growing strong, feeding on his arousal. She parted her legs to him, raising her knees either side of him, urging him into her.

_You are mine, and when you release yourself, you release me._

Merlin said nothing, just watched as her eyes grew brighter, drawing him into her. She was strong, stronger then he could possibly have known, but not only was Avalon’s existence at stake, it was Arthur’s also. If the fey escaped, she would drain Arthur until he simply faded away from exhaustion.

Thinking about this gave Merlin renewed strength. Leaning on his hands, all the time watching Avalon’s face, he started to move inside her, controlled and languid. This forced her to slow her pace to match his, driving her into a frenzy, trying to hasten him, but he stayed in perfect control, denying her his release and therefore her own. Their eyes were locked together, the magic between them tangible. Merlin was glad Arthur was sleeping. Distracted by this thought, her own power surged and it was all Merlin could do not climax.

Instead, very slowly, he withdrew from her, watching her squirm and writhe in front of him. And then he grabbed her hip with one hand and turned her over, breaking the connection between their eyes, and causing her to cry out as he entered her from behind. She lifted up her bottom in response, pushing back against him as he knelt behind her, hands firm on her hips. He could see her face in the looking glass opposite as she sank into his thrusts. As he drove his length deep into her, she began to moan, quietly at first, then louder, then the moans deteriorated into gasping sobs, and then the long, slow groan as emotions flooded through her body. She was defeated and at last Merlin allowed himself his own release.

Avalon took the deepest of breaths and sank back onto the bed. Merlin looked deep into her eyes, searching for any sparkling, but there were only a few flecks that had not been there before, an outward sign of her increased sexuality. But the fey was defeated, back in its place. Arthur stirred as he felt her next to him. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him.

‘Avalon,’ he whispered.

‘Call me Avi,’ she muttered, and both Merlin and Arthur smiled. She was back and she was safe.

* * *

Gaius quietly opened the door to Arthur’s bedroom. Arthur was asleep on his back, a smile on his face. His arm was around Avalon who had her head on his shoulder, her hand resting on his chest. Tucked up behind her, spooning, was Merlin, his arm around her waist.

Gaius smiled and left the room. Whatever had happened here had been resolved. The sun was up and he had work to do, for which he would need someone’s support.

He knocked on Lady Merril’s door, once, and then a second time. She opened it having obviously only just pulled on a robe. Gaius looked over her shoulder towards the displaced curtains at the back of her room.

‘Sir Leon?’ he asked, recognising the knight’s unruly hair which he had failed to full obscure.

There was a shuffling and a curly head appeared from behind the curtain. ‘Gaius! What . . . what are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same.’

‘Oh, I, err . . .’

‘You do know this is treason, don’t you?’ Merril stifled a gasp and sat down heavily on the bed. Leon disentangled himself from the curtains and sat next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders.

‘I know. But I love her.’

‘And if she’d married Arthur?’ Leon winced. ‘After what happened with Guinevere?’

‘Stop! Don’t you think I hadn’t thought of that a thousand times.’ Leon was looking up at Gaius, pleading with him.

‘How long has this been going on?’

‘Two years,’ muttered Leon.

‘And what exactly were your plans?’ Leon looked shifty and Merril tortured. Gaius thought for a few moments. ‘Put some clothes on and meet me in the great hall.’

* * *

Gaius’s next call was on King Barlis. He greeted Gaius warmly. ‘How are you, old friend?’

Gaius lowered himself slowly onto a chair near the open window and Barlis joined him on the other side. ‘How long have we known each other, Barlis?’

‘Must be . . . forty years.’

‘And do you trust me?’

‘Gaius, what is this?’

‘Just answer me.’

‘Yes, I trust you. And there are few I could say that too.’

‘Lady Merril must not marry Arthur.’

‘What?’ Barlis made to rise from his chair, but Gaius waved him back.

‘Hear me out, please, Sire.’

‘Do not “Sire” me,’ Barlis bellowed. ‘Uther and I had an agreement. I know that Guinevere . . .’ he spat out the name, ‘but now they will marry. They must!’

‘Barlis, Merril is in love with someone else.’

‘In love? Since when did that matter?’

‘Since you wanted the happiness of your daughters.’

‘Merril would be happy with Arthur. He is a fine man, and a good king.’

‘She would not. She would always be thinking of another.’

‘Which other? Who is this man?’

‘He is a Knight of the Round Table, Barlis. Also a fine man.’

But not a king. I want our kingdoms to be joined. I have no son, I wanted Arthur to rule when I die.’

‘But he still could.’

‘What? How?’

‘You have another daughter, Sire.’

‘Avalon? No man in his right mind would take on that girl. She’s wild.’

‘She takes after her father,’ Gaius added with a wry smile.

‘Ha! Maybe she does, maybe she does.’ He relaxed back into his chair. ‘You seem to have this worked out, Gaius. Perhaps you should enlighten me.’

* * *

Merril and Leon were waiting near the round table when Gaius and her father arrived. Leon instinctively moved protectively closer to Merril, but still bowed to the king.

‘Sir Leon. You have something to ask of me?’

‘Sire?’

‘My daughter’s hand in marriage, perhaps?’

‘Father? Father!’ and Merril sprinted across the room and hurled herself into Barlis’s arms.

Once the commotion had subsided, the king and Leon had shaken hands, and Merril and Leon departed to confirm plans long since dreamed of, but never imagined would come to pass, Barlis raised the question once more of Avalon.

‘I do not think we need worry about that,’ Gaius replied. ‘Lady Avalon has made her own choice.’

 * * *

Merlin sighed as he opened the door to Arthur’s room, aching from an evening polishing armour. He twitched the sheets back over the king and queen where they lay tangled from their earlier love-making. Avi stirred slightly and smiled at him. As he slipped into his usual position beside her, the gold flecks sparkled in her eyes as she turned her body towards him and embraced him.

 


End file.
